After the War
by Aenaris
Summary: A collection of snippets of various people in the years following the Battle of Hogwarts. Canon compliant.
1. Partner

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _JoeCool989_'s "Summer Writing Camp!" using the prompt _partner_.

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** T

**Characters:** George & Percy

**Word Count:** 100

* * *

"You need someone to help with the store."

George waved a hand in dismissal of the idea. "He was my twin. How could you expect me to replace him?"

"I might not be your twin, but I'm your brother."

George shifted his gaze to see pain-filled eyes. "You know, we used to say that you wouldn't know a joke if it ran naked in front of you spraying glitter out its arse."

Percy's lips twitched into a smile and George had his answer. "Guess we were wrong," he commented as he held out his hand. "Partner."


	2. Wedding Invitations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire The Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _a character must use a quill._

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K

**Characters:** Hermione

**Word Count:** 100

* * *

Hermione took a deep breath as she dipped the quill into the inkwell and tried to ignore the cramp that was forming in her hand. This would have been quicker and easier if she hadn't done it herself and used self-writing quills instead, but that would have lost the personal touch she wanted. Having finished the last one, she looked down at the parchment with a pleased smile.

_Along with their parents_

_#####_

_Hermione Jean Granger _

_and _

_Ronald Bilius Weasley_

_#####_

_request the pleasure of your company_

_at the celebration of their union_

_#####_

_Saturday, the sixth of October, 2001_

_at The Burrow_


	3. The Pet Debate

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire The Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _"A dog is the greatest gift a parent can give a child. Okay, a good education, then a dog." - John Grogan_

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K

**Characters:** Hermione/Ron

**Word Count:** 657

* * *

"Do you have any ideas on additional presents to get for Rose's birthday?" Hermione asked her husband as she straightened up the front room from the mess that her children had created. "She asked for so little, I thought maybe we could get her something she hadn't requested."

"Hmm?" Ron flipped the page of the Auror report he was focused on, barely even realizing that his wife was in the room with him.

Hermione stepped forward so she was next to him and put her hand on top of the parchment that she was competing with for her husband's concentration. "Honestly Ronald, sometimes I wonder how I managed to get you to pay enough attention to me to even have children," she commented harshly, frustrated at the lack of response.

Ron smiled sheepishly at her. "Sorry, it's just that this case has been causing trouble lately, and I've been trying to figure out what we might be overlooking. What were you saying, dear?"

Hermione softened toward her husband, recognizing that he was just trying to do his part to make the world a better place. "I wondered if you had any ideas for Rose's birthday? We hadn't gotten much for her thus far."

Ron considered the situation for a moment. "We should take her to Magical Menegerie," he remarked before shifting his attention downward to try to continue reading the report between his wife's fingers.

Hermione eyed him in surprise. "Really, a pet? She's only going to be a six. I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Of course it is," Ron argued absently. "A pet is the greatest gift you can give a child."

Hermione shook her head. "Yes, because a pet will give you the skills to get a job. Hogwarts is just a place to escape your parents for seven years."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Fine, a good education, and then a pet. I'm surprised you even asked me rather than just buying her a whole library."

"That was my original plan," Hermione admitted, "but I asked because I thought you might have suggestions on books, rather than suggest something outlandish. She's not even capable to take care of a pet this young."

Ron sat back, eying her carefully. "I wasn't suggesting that we get her a Blast-Ended Skrewt. There are several pets that require a lot less care. We already know how responsible she is for her age, and this would give her a companion of her own for when we're busy with work."

"There's always Hugo," Hermione countered, "and we have two owls and Crookshanks."

"She cannot play with the owls, and Crookshanks is getting up there in years and does little other than lay in the sun all day, so there's not much entertainment value there. I know you were an only child, so you didn't have anyone else around, but while there were times I enjoyed having siblings, they could certainly drive me up the wall. A pet at least gives you something to talk to, and depending on what type, a playmate. For as much as I complained about him, and am grossed out by how things turned out, I really did enjoy having Scabbers." Ron set the report down and took his wife's hand. "I'll take the responsibility if I'm wrong and deal with any feeding and clean up. I think she's old enough for the chance though."

Hermione studied her husband carefully. There might be times he was as insensitive as he was in his youth, but he had occasions where he was oddly insightful. Finally, she nodded her agreement. "Alright, I guess we can see if she wants to get one. I'm still taking her by Flourish & Blotts while we're in Diagon Alley, though."

Ron chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything else from you, dear."


	4. A Chance Meeting

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _JoeCool989_'s "Summer Writing Camp!" challenge using the prompt _write about a chance meeting between two people who have not seen each other in forever._

**Warnings:** Mentions of child abuse.

**Rating:** T

**Characters:** Narcissa & Andromeda

**Word Count:** 1008

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy moved calmly through Dragon Alley, doing her best to not let her gaze drift too far from the path she was walking, unwilling to see the closed down shops still in shambles on either side of her, results of the war that had scarcely ended. She focused on her destination, dreading the idea of having to interact with people that were bound to have animosity toward her, especially now that the Malfoy family had escaped Azkabhan for the second time after being on the Dark Lord's side. She was quite successful at her goal, until she saw someone out of the corner of her eye that could not have possibly been in Dragon Alley; Bellatrix was dead, after all. Turning to examine the person fully, she realized exactly whom she was seeing. "Andy?"

The person in question at the sound of her nickname, and Narcissa could see how tense the older woman was. "What are you doing here? I thought you were, I mean... I'd heard you didn't leave your home."

"Yes, well when your husband, daughter and son-in-law all die, leaving you the sole caregiver of an infant, you don't have the luxury of staying at home when the supplies run out.". Andromeda replied harshly, her eyes shifting around anxiously, as though searching for a place to hide while her grip tightened on the stroller that Narcissa had previously not noticed.

Narcissa did her best not to fidget in the uncomfortable situation as she had been taught that such things were improper for a lady, but she hoped that the tone of voice the response was given in was due to Andromeda being unsettled by her surroundings and not agitated specifically at her. "Maybe... I could help? I could deliver items you need from time to time so you don't have to leave?" She offered tentatively, trying to keep her voice even so that it wouldn't be realized how nervous she was. Narcissa was normally so capable of being the perfect Pureblooded wife in public, but there was just something about family that had always caused her not to have her mask wrapped so tightly around herself.

Andromeda replied with a hollow laugh. "The high-society Malfoy matriarch would really take precious time out of her busy schedule to deliver supplies to a poor shut-in Blood Traitor widow?"

"No," Narcissa admitted, "but she would be willing to rearrange that schedule to help her sister."

Andromeda studied her younger sister carefully. "Why?"

"Family has always been important to me; well, family excluding our parents. Our cousins are dead, Bella is dead, and we're all that's left. I've already spent so much time lamenting over the fact that I cut ties with you, and I would really like to mend our relationship as best as we can so we don't continue to have this distance between us."

"You seemed perfectly content to have no contact with me over the years," Andromeda shot back, rolling the stroller lightly back and forth to rock the child as a distraction from her surroundings.

Narcissa shook her head. "I was mad at you for a long time, Andy. You left me there alone with father, and I was scared. I blamed you instead of blaming him, like I should have, and that kept me from wanting to contact you. To escape Father, I convinced Lucius to request my hand in marriage so that I had a place to go rather than running off and hoping for the best. Thus, I became not only the sister of a high ranking Death Eater, but the wife of one as well. I was afraid to contact you, thinking that it might make people more aware of you, and make you a larger target. After the Dark Lord fell, when Bella went to Azkabhan, I really should have made the effort, but I let my pride get the better of me and decided I wasn't going to beg for you to talk to me. I waited for you to make the first step... but you never did."

"I didn't know how to face you. I felt horribly guilty that Bella spent so many years trying to protect us as much as she could, and when Father arranged for her to married off to Rodolphus Lestrange since he was fed up with her insubordination, I should have stepped forward to take care of you. I was so scared though, I didn't know how to face him, so I ran and tried to make a new life for myself that would give me as little contact with him as possible. I always told myself that you wouldn't be willing to talk to me since I was a Blood Traitor, muggle-lover, but that was my excuse so that I could feel justified in not making the attempt, because I was so afraid that you would not forgive me. Every time I double-check that I locked the door for the night, I hear Bella's voice telling me to take you and hide, and it reminds me that I failed you," Andromeda explained mournfully, unable to meet her sister's eyes. "Cissy, I'm so sorry."

Narcissa's reply was preempted by a loud noise that had Andromeda looking around with wide eyes, and she was reminded that she had no right to blame the elder woman as she had suffered as much as herself. Ignoring the flinch brought on when she laid her hand on Andromeda's arm, she smiled supportingly. "Why don't we Floo back to your place where it's more comfortable, and you can give me a list of what you need?"

Andromeda stared at Narcissa, as though she were trying to decide if she could trust her, but finally gave a slight nod and turned the stroller around and walked back toward the Leaky Cauldron for the Floo. Narcissa fell into step along side her, silent as she contemplated this turn of events. For all the lack of contact, she truly had missed her sister. Maybe this was her second chance.


	5. Negative

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _negative__._

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K+

**Characters:** Ginny

**Word Count:** 406

* * *

Ginny swirled the potion around the vial before taking a deep breath and walking toward the bedroom. It might have been more accurate if she had gone to St. Mungo's, rather than brewing the potion herself, but she wasn't willing for the potential leakage getting out that Mrs. Potter could be pregnant. The press was still looking for any information they could get into Harry's personal life, so it was better to do it all herself, given that the potion really wasn't that hard to brew, nor were any of ingredients expensive. Technically, she could have waited and let the team run the standard test tomorrow when she went in for her physical to make sure she was good for practice, but she didn't want to find out the news that way if she was.

Pricking her finger, she allowed a drop to well up on the surface before tilting it to allow the blood to drip into the vial. Swirling the potion around once more, she set it on the dresser and walked over to the window, not wanting to fret by staring three minutes at the darned thing. The sun sunk slowly toward the horizon, and Ginny watched the colors play across the sky in decorative swirls with gray clouds floating across the canvas of the sky. The desire to turn around and check the potion made her jittery, but she forced herself not to move, knowing she had set the alarm to go off when it was time to check.

Then the chime finally rang, she turned around to see that the clear solution had turned red. She took a deep sigh of relief. She and Harry had talked about the basic idea of starting a family, but Harry was more focused on getting through Auror training while she had expressed her interest in going to play professional Quidditch, so it didn't look as though would be any idea of babies for several years. If she had been pregnant now, that meant she would have been off the team and the chance at professional Quidditch would likely have slipped her by. Waiting gave them a chance to get settled down in their relationship, as well as let chaos of the Wizarding World find some order, and then there would be plenty of time for a family.

Pouring the liquid down the drain, Ginny binned the vial, glad that the results had been negative.


	6. Till

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _till_.

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K+

**Characters:** George & Harry

**Word Count:** 784

* * *

The was a knock on the door once more. George gave a groan that was muffled by the pillow his face was buried in. His family had been trying this every day, sending different people up to try to convince him to leave their- no _his_- room, and rejoin life. How was he supposed to do that when he felt dead inside? He shouldn't be going through the aftermath of the war by himself. It had always been Gred and Forge, and now who was he? Just George. It wasn't worth it.

The knock grew more insistent, and George wondered why whomever it wasn't hadn't just walked in like previous days. It had to only be days before they physically dragged him out of his haven, but he was going to fight it every moment. After two minutes of the knocking, the sound grated on his nerves enough that he finally snapped. "Just come in already!"

There was another moment, and the doorknob turned hesitantly. After a pause, it opened fully, and Harry walked in and across the room to sit on the unoccupied bed. He looked around the room, examining everything fully except George, and gave the distinct impression he didn't want to be there. Had he not been in such a dark mood, George would have snorted in amusement; the great Harry Potter could face down Voldemort and dozens of Death Eaters, but was unsure about facing a depressed teenager? Man, he must really be stressing people if that was the case.

"The till is empty," Harry remarked quietly, and George had to wonder if the young man really had lost his mind in all his encounters with the Dark Lord. He halfway rolled so he could see the other person, but choose not to comment on Harry's lack of sense.

"I don't think that was part of the agreement," Harry commented, finally actually looking at George. "I gave you my Tri-Wizard Tournament winnings so you could start up that shop of yours, and you're just letting it sit there in disrepair. So since you didn't hold up your end of the bargain, I guess you should pay it back. Granted, half was Fred's, and he did what he could, but that still means that you owe me five hundred Galleons, and with an empty till, I'm not sure how you're going to pay up."

"I thought you said you were just going to bin it anyway," George countered, not budging from his spot.

"At the time, I might have. Now, however, there's plenty of people who suffered in the war that could use the assistance. If you're not doing your part, I'd rather see it go to one of them," Harry shrugged one shoulder casually.

"So how are you suggesting that I pay you back?"

"Well, unless you have another job that I don't know of, I guess you're going to have to go back to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and run it until the payment is full."

"How am I supposed to do that? It was our store, and now he's not there anymore."

"That's your problem, isn't it? You're not willing to go somewhere that has so many memories of him. Sometimes, though, you just have to deal with it. I ended up back at Number 12 Grimmauld Place after Sirius died, no matter how much I didn't want to return to his prison," Harry admitted grimly.

"Mum sent you up here to talk to me, didn't she? You're not actually looking to get the money."

"Not if I can get you back to working and creating prank items. If you're really going to abandon your dream, then yes, I want to see the money go to help someone else." Harry paused for a long moment. "Yes, though, your Mum sent me up here to see if I could talk any sense into. The rest of your family was just as persuasive, though. They seemed to think that I had experience with losing people and dealing with guilt and everything. Can't imagine why they thought that," he commented.

"You just expect me to go back to my daily life like Fred didn't die, or like he never existed or something?"

"No, I expect you to leave your room, clean yourself up a little, and go downstairs to eat breakfast with a family that's suffering the loss of a loved one, just like you." The two young men stared at each other for several long minutes before George very slowly pulled himself off the bed and walked out the door. Harry followed with a slight smile.


	7. Hogwarts Party

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _Live to Party__ by the Jonas Brothers_ and _JoeCool989_'s "Summer Writing Camp!" challenge using the prompt _write about a party_.

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K+

**Characters:** Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Neville/Hannah, Luna

**Word Count:** 1514

* * *

Even with as many people helping as they did, accompanied by the wonders of magic, the repairs of Hogwarts took several months, given that either Dark Magic had damaged things beyond salvation, or the broken pieces were just too widely scattered for a simple _reparo_ to do the trick. Entire chunks of wall were replaced, which then had to be spelled to be resistant to magic, so that students couldn't randomly transfigure or charm them between classes. There was a widespread debate about whether or not this was a good time to update the decor, or if that would make destruction the castle sustained too obvious. In the end, it was agreed to keep everything as close as possible, hoping to aid people in forgetting, or at least keeping them from focusing on the negative memories that so many people would have of this place.

When everything established as being finished, the people who had been participating in the reconstruction went home for good, leaving Hogwarts the empty shell it normally was in the summer. That was, until the invitations went around to inviting everyone back to the school for a _The Dark Lord is Dead/Hogwarts is Repaired_ party. Opinions were diverse on whether or not it was in good taste to have a party after so many people gave their lives, but not only did many of the returning students reply that they were attending, so did many of the alumni. Those who helped participate with the party planning were surprised to learn that the original idea actually came from one Miss Hermione Jean Granger.

* * *

"I'm surprised to say it, but Granger can throw a pretty good party," Mandy yelled over the music to Morag as they danced to the Weird Sisters in the Ravenclaw Common Room that had been rearranged into a dance floor, just as all the common rooms had. "I guess being in Gryffindor rubbed off on her."

"What would you know of parties? You're a Ravenclaw!" Zacharias Smith shouted at the girl.

"What would you? You're a Hufflepuff!" She shot back as the two girls subtly worked their way across the floor to get away from him.

Along the side of the room, Luna stood sipping a Butterbeer as she watched the dancers. A red-haired young woman popped up next to her. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you. I wouldn't have figured you'd be interested in the Weird Sisters."

"Oh, I'm not up here to listen to them," Luna replied serenely. "I wanted to make sure that a Nargle infestation hadn't occurred during the repairs. If so, I was going to have to bring extra necklaces to try to deter them."

"Ah," Ginny replied. "Everyone else is down in the Great Hall. We've been waiting for you." Luna nodded and the two girls left the Common Room. Once they were a couple hallways away and the noise had died down, Ginny glanced at Luna. "How has your father been doing?"

"Not so well. He still feels horribly guilty about what he did to Harry, Hermione and Ron. I've been trying to encourage the wrackspurts to surround him, that way the events are a little less clear in his memory so he doesn't feel as bad," Luna replied, her voice slightly less cheerful than it had been.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Ginny replied honestly. "I really hope it helps him."

The two walked in silence for another couple of hallways. "Does Harry still have the Wrackspurts?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I can't figure out what is going on with him. I know he broke up with me so I wasn't a target, but you'd think that with Voldemort dead, that wouldn't be an issue. There's been some flirting, some tension, but nothing solid. I can't figure out if he's trying to be a gentleman and allow me time to mourn for Fred, or if he's really not interested. I'm half tempted to make the first move, but it just feels like he should be the one to do it. After, being the Savior of the Wizarding World doesn't mean he can get out of having to ask a girl out. They're not all going to fall at his feet." Having reach the Great Hall by that point, Ginny stepped through the doorway and looked around before taking Luna's arm and pulling her over to where everyone else was, so that they didn't get separated in the throng of people.

"I found her in Ravenclaw," Ginny said by way of greeting.

"With the Weird Sisters?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"She was checking for Nargle infestations that might have occurred during renovations."

"Oh. We uh... tried to prevent those for you," Hermione mentioned, not in the mood to get in a debate with Luna over her imaginary creatures.

"Thank you very much. Would you like me to check the Gryffindor tower also?"

"Uh, sure."

"Okay, everyone is here. Now spill," Ron told Hermione, impatient for her reply. "Why didn't you tell us you were the one arranging everything?"

"Because I thought you'd laugh at the idea of me arranging a party, and decide not to attend because it must be some type of study-a-thon." Hermione replied defensively.

"We're your friends. We would have come anyway to support you, even if it was just a study-a-thon. We just might have been less thrilled about being here." Neville replied confidently.

"Why, though?" Harry asked curiously. "I mean, woo-hoo, the Dark Lord is dead, and great, Hogwarts is fixed, but why the giant party to celebrate it? I would have expected more of a _I get to finish my last year!_ party."

"Well, that's just it, isn't it? I mean, I was gone most of last year, but I was still here for the Battle, and saw not only Hogwarts get destroyed, but people die right in front of me. I wasn't the only one who returned for the last battle who will be coming back in the fall, and even those who weren't in the battle, many of them suffered here the last school year at the hands of the Carrows. How many students are going to have the memories stuck in their head and dread going back, considering the way things were? This, at least, gave them a chance to make new memories before the pressure of classes set in, and hopefully when they actually start next week, they'll be thinking about who snogged who at the party, rather than which classrooms they might have a panic attack in from the bad memories. Plus, it gives the parents a chance to see for themselves that the building really is fixed up, and that they don't need to worry about their children falling out of jagged holes in the wall. Seemed like a winning situation for everyone." Hermione explained.

The other four stared at her while Luna smiled serenely. "That was a really good idea," Harry commented. "I'm not coming back, but I can see it helping people who are."

Further conversation was distracted by a blonde young woman coming up to the group, specifically to Neville, and muttering something to her feet as she blushed bright red. "Um, sorry. I didn't catch that?" Neville asked. He learned in to hear her as she mumbled the second time, and he too blushed bright red. "Yeah, I g-g-guess," he stammered in reply and so took his hand and pulled him away.

"Woo, go Neville!" Ron hollered after them, chuckling at their red faces. He turned to Hermione. "So, we're sure that the entire castle is fixed up? Maybe we should double check."

"Trust me, Ronald, I've been over the plans several times, as well as McGonagall and all the other teachers-" Hermione's indignant rant was interrupted as Ron leaned over and whispered something in her ear. "Oh, alright, I suppose it can't hurt to double check," she admitted. "I'll meet up with you later," she told the rest of them as the pair hurried off.

"I would have thought that Filch would have been more worried that all the broom cupboards were repaired, rather than Ron," Luna remarked, and Ginny coughed lightly while Harry shook his head. The blonde gave a dreamy stare at each of her two companions before turning away slightly. "I think I should go check the Gryffindor tower while I have a chance." Luna skipped away.

"So... us," Harry started, avoiding looking at Ginny.

"Yes, yes. All of our friends have abandoned us."

"No, uh... I was actually thinking about... well, _us_. Do you think you want to?" Harry asked, fidgeting slightly.

"You're asking me back out?" Ginny demanded.

"Uhm..." Harry hesitated, then straightened up. "Yes, I am. Ginny Weasley, will you be my girlfriend?"

The redhead broke out in a large grin. "I thought you'd never ask. Now, let's go see if we can find a broom cupboard my brother isn't hogging."


	8. Accuracy

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _accuracy_.

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K+

**Characters:** Harry

**Word Count:** 641

* * *

Harry ducked and swirled, alternating between shielding to block the incoming spellfire and returning spells of his own. A flash of green approached, and he immediately conjured a stone block to shield against the Killing Curse he would be unable to dodge, ignoring the stings that came from the block shattered and spraying him with shrapnel. He knew of two targets ahead of him and one to his right, but the Muggles running around in panic made it difficult to get a clear shot on them. With the enemies' anti-Apparition wards up, Harry just continued his work of moving through the crowd, trying to line up his spells as best as he could.

A break in the crowd opened, and Harry spotted a man standing with his back nearly to him, too focused on the Muggle girl he was torturing to notice that he had become target number one. Harry took him out with a quiet stunner his distraction caught the better of him as he was forced to throw up a shield to prevent the yellow curse from hitting him, afraid to just dodge it, given the number of people still surrounding him that could have been hit in his place. Finally, on a cue unseen to Harry, all the opponents still able Apparated out, leaving the young Auror standing in a mall full of Muggles panicking at the damage and bodies surrounding them.

Then, as one, all the Muggles froze and began vanishing, along with the structure he was in, leaving Harry standing in a giant auditorium. "Very good, Mr. Potter," his instructor told him as she walked up.

With the simulation over, Harry leaned over slightly, placing the palms of his hands on his thighs as he took several deep breaths to try to calm his beating heart. "How did I do?" He asked. It was the final test to see if he would become an official Auror. Failing this would mean another year of classes, and he didn't think he could live down the shame if it got out that the Boy-Who-Lived, defeater of the Dark Lord had to take remedial Auror classes.

"Well, your overall accuracy was 47%, including the shots that were blocked. You took down a total of seven opponents, with one death and six disables. Of your misses, you only hit the Muggles with non-damaging spells, stunning twelve and disarming three women of their purses. You also managed to protect several of the people in your vicinity by shielding and blocking spells, rather than dodging." She read off, studying the clipboard in front of her that the instructors had likely written done all their notes of his performance while they were watching.

"Damn," Harry muttered quietly.

"Problem, Mr. Potter?" The instructor asked, catching the word that Harry hadn't meant for her to hear.

"I thought I would have done better than that," Harry admitted.

"You had some of the highest scores we're seen in a while, and that's not good enough for you?" The instructor asked as she raised an eyebrow.

"But I didn't even get half accuracy!" Harry protested.

"Mr. Potter, while I know you can hit a stationary target perfectly, and a moving target with great accuracy, this is not a game and was not meant to be a game. It was a simulation of a possible battle situation. In those real battle situations, you aren't going to have the luxury of having a perfect shot. You're going to have to do the best you can and make do with what you have. Sometimes, you might fail, things might turn out horribly, but you have to keep pushing forward, adapt to the moment and move on. Which you demonstrated during your battle. That, Mr. Potter, is why you passed." With those harshly accurate words, she departed, leaving Harry with his thoughts.


	9. Enjoy the Moment

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _a character must use a stick_.

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K

**Characters:** Rose

**Word Count:** 312

* * *

Rose took her time walking through the yard, judging her steps carefully since her father hadn't unfortunately been outside recently to cast the regular Vanishing Charms that kept it from being a mine field. Her mother had insisted that he been the one to do it as it was his grand idea to get pets, although she didn't seem unhappy about the idea once she saw how much the children had appreciated their new companions. She was just glad that her parents didn't make her do it the Muggle way, picking them all up by hand. That would have been unpleasant.

Once she got past the 'area of doom,' as it was sometimes referred to, she walked briskly over to the trees and checked the ground before several of them before finding a good sturdy stick. Giving it a few test swings to make sure she liked the weight of it, she gave a whistle. "Here, Beedle! C'mon boy!"

The crup immediately lost interest in whatever he was sniffing and ran over to his owner. He bounced around her feet anxiously as he saw the stick, excited for her to throw it. Rose obliged, watching in amusement as he nearly tripped over his own feet to retrieve it. She giggled an his antics, reflecting on how much she was going to miss doing this, given that she was going to be going to Hogwarts in less than a week. She was half jealous of her brother, given that he would be able to bring his pet along with him, but she couldn't feel too jealous since she didn't want a lethargic part-kneazle anyway, no matter how much Hugo claimed he was fun.

Rose pushed the thoughts out of her head as Beedle returned the stick to her, determined to focus on the current situation and enjoy herself as much as possible.


	10. Looking for Happiness

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _"It is not easy to find happiness in ourselves and it is not possible to find it elsewhere_." _-Agness Repplier_

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K

**Characters:** Draco/Pansy, Narcissa

**Word Count:** 471

* * *

Draco was beginning to learn that just because he was born a Malfoy, he was not entitled to everything he had led himself to believe. Very little was truly handed to him, and even when things were, there was typically not much satisfaction. No, his life wasn't turning out how he had expected that it would. He wasn't even happy.

Although emotions were something a Malfoy should aim to control, Draco was figuring out he disagreed with that idea. This dull, monotonous existence was grating on his nerves, and he wanted something he could truly appreciate in his like for once. Not appreciate like he had once thought he appreciated the satisfaction he got from taunting Potty, the Weasel and their pet Mudblood; he wanted something that didn't have to be perfect, didn't have to be proper, but would still somehow make it so that all his efforts were worth something. Whatever he was looking for, though, it certainly wasn't this.

Once more, Pansy Parkinson sat on the loveseat, pouring over wedding books, planning out every detail with his mother while his father had disappeared into his office, leaving Draco to suffer alone at the stream of prattle from them. He had yet to even understand what they were discussing, given that he still had to propose to her, something he hadn't felt the inclination to do. As her shrill voice continued on and on, drilling through his eardrums, he realized that if he wanted whatever it was he was looking for, he never would.

"No." Draco said quite clearly, interrupting the conversation between the two women.

Narcissa nodded her head. "Well, of course, dear, if that's what you want, we don't need the chair covers. I wish you would reconsider though, it'll make everything look more elegant."

"It's not going to happen."

"Well, alright. If you insist, Draco. It is your wedding also." Narcissa turned her head away, fulling intending to resume her previous conversation with Pansy.

"Which is not going to happen." Draco reiterated, standing up in his seat.

Narcissa turned in her seat to look at her son fully, but it was Pansy who spoke. "I know you've been taking your sweet time with the proposal, but you really claim that you aren't-"

"No, I'm not. I'm done with this. More importantly, I'm done with you. I'm sure you know where the door is, so if you'll just see yourself out, we can both get on with our lives without each other," Draco finished and walked out of the room, ignoring Pansy's calls and attempts at reasoning and pleading. He wasn't sure where his life was going to lead him, but he could help get the feeling that what he had just done might have made him a tiny bit happier.


	11. Birthing Stress

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _JoeCool989_'s "Summer Writing Camp!" using the prompt _write about someone fainting_.

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** T

**Characters:** Luna/Rolf

**Word Count:** 136

* * *

Understandably, giving birth could make one a nervous wreck. There was the pain and variety of sounds expressing that pain. There was the tense waiting of the labor to progress to the point that the baby could be born. There the nastiness that coated the baby, making it look more like a misshapen monster than someone's pride and joy. Still, somehow Luna thought it was supposed to be her that became the nervous wreck, rather than her husband, Rolf.

He made it through the labor, though. At least, he did right up until the point that the Healers tried to hand him his second son; the one that must have been hiding behind his twin, given that no one had realized he was there. That's when Rolf fainted.

Luna was surprised he made it that long.


	12. Bedtime Story

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him. Nor do I own the book Goodnight Moon.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _a character must read a book.__  
_

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K

**Characters:** Draco/Astoria, Scorpius

**Word Count:** 569

* * *

Astoria came out of the bedroom where she was putting down their son for the night and smiled at Draco. "Scorpius wants you to read him his story tonight."

"What? How do you expect me to do that?" Draco asked in surprise.

"Well, given that you managed to pass your N.E.W.T.s, I'd imagine you are capable of reading, since there's no way someone else could have taken the written exam for you," Astoria replied glibly. "If you stay have any problems, just take your time and sound them out."

Draco glared at her. "I know how to read."

"Then you go in there, you open the book and you read the words out aloud to your son. Naturally, as these are bedtime stories and we are trying to relax him, I recommend using a calm and soothing voice, rather than yelling. In books with different characters, you can change the style of your voice to make the characters unique, but this one just has narration, so you don't have to worry about that today," Astoria explained, handing him the book.

Draco looked at the cardboard book with the basic pictures and simple text and nearly dropped it. "This is a muggle book," he spat in disgust.

Astoria's eyes narrowed. "Yes, it is, and it's what your son picked out for you to read to him, so it's what you're going to read to him, understood?"

"It's not dignified," Draco continued to argue with his wife, choosing to ignore the delicate situation he was creating.

"Ah yes, dignity. Tell me, Draco, did your father ever read to you?" Astoria asked, reading the answer on her husband's face as he chose not to give a verbal reply. "I thought as much. You told me that you wanted to be closer to your son that Lucius was to you. If he never did this, don't you think that this might be something you should consider doing?"

Draco sighed heavily and gave the book a long, measuring look before he turned and headed into their son's room. There he found Scorpius playing with some of the blocks that had been left out. He scooped the toddler up to the excited cry to "Daddy!" and sat down with the child on his lap in the rocker that Astoria normally occupied. He flipped open the book carefully, as though there might be something contagious on it and studied the beginning. "_In the great green room_," he began hesitantly, glancing up to see his wife giving him a nod with an encouraging smile, "_there was a telephone, and a red balloon and a picture of..." _

Once the story was complete and Scorpius was yawning sleepily, he picked the boy up and laid him gently on his bed, kissing his forehead softly. The child wiggled slightly in his sleep into a more comfortable position while Draco tapped the mattress with his wand and a brief green wall of light surrounded the bed before fading, signifying to him that the charm was in place to keep Scorpius from falling out if he rolled in his sleep. Stepping quietly, he left the room and latched the door behind him.

Draco headed downstairs to his study, trying to ignore Astoria's knowing smirk. Although neither one was going to say it out loud, they both knew he would be willingly doing it again.


	13. Beans Bring Memories

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _a character must eat Every Flavour Beans.__  
_

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K

**Characters:** Harry, Lily

**Word Count:** 100

* * *

"Daddy, Daddy! I think I got a good one for you!" Little Lily Luna yelled as she came running to her father, her hand clenched tightly around something.

"What is it, Lily?"

"I found one you'll like, Daddy! It's toffee!" She waved her fist around before dropping the amber colored Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean into his hand.

Unwilling to disappoint his daughter, Harry popped it into his mouth. He barely managed not to choke while he remembered his first year. "_Alas! Ear wax!"_

"Was it a good one, Daddy?"

"Yes, darling, it was."


	14. Lessons from the Past

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _"We can draw lessons from the past, but we cannot live in it" -Lyndon Johnson__.__  
_

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K

**Characters:** Draco, Scorpius

**Word Count:** 346

* * *

"Daddy? What's a Mudblood?"

Draco turned to study his six-year-old son. "Where did you hear that word from?" He asked, mainly to stall for time to formulate an answer. He wished Astoria were here to take the question, but she was off with the other females of her family for a spa day. He was on his own.

"When I was with Aunt Daphne, Grayson Nott stopped by with his parents. He's the one that said it." Scorpius answered.

_Of course. Pansy Parkinson - well, Nott now, never dropped her Pureblooded preferences. She must be passing them on._ Draco thought. The situation was explained well enough, but what he was going to do about it? He was at a cross roads. "Well... do you know how your Mommy and I can do magic, and there's some people, Muggles, who can't?"he. He paused, waiting for the little boy's nod. "When a baby is born to two Muggles, and it is capable of magic, it's a Muggleborn witch or wizard. Some people, though, say that those babies are dirty for being born to Muggles, rather than people like us who can do magic. They call them Mudbloods instead."

"So..." Scorpius looked like he was trying to piece the explanation all together. "So it's a bad word that they call someone because their parents are different?" He asked, looking up at his father for confirmation.

"Exactly," his father agreed, smiling down at his son.

"Oh." The boy pondered this for a moment, then his eyes got wide. "I didn't mean to say a bad word, Daddy! I won't say it again, I promise!"

Draco chuckled. "I'll forgive you this time, since you didn't know it was a bad word, but I'll hold you to not saying it again." He ruffled his son's hair as the boy nodded his head furiously in agreement. "Why don't you go play for a bit before your mother gets home?" The child wasted no time in running off.

_I handled that well, I believe,_ Draco thought. _I think Astoria will be proud of me._


	15. Legacy

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _"For children preserve the fame of a man after his death." -Aeschlys__.__  
_

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K+

**Characters:** Teddy

**Word Count:** 282

* * *

Teddy Lupin was an oddity. He walked around Hogwarts with his teal hair in sharp contrast to the yellow and black striped tie he wore, and never seemed to notice that it wasn't normal. Given his family history and connections though, most people let it slide, and even came to know him as a decent guy. Aside from one little Hufflepuff that needed to point it out to him.

"Isn't it true that you're the son of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks?"

Teddy found himself looking down at the first year that had approached him. "Yes, I am."

"Then you're the child of of a werewolf and a Metamorphmagus. You're the son of freaks, so you must be a freak yourself." This condemnation was made proudly by the stuck-up child with curly brown hair.

Teddy was taken back for a moment while some of his friends around him broke out into angry muttering. He studied the child in front of him, wondering what might cause him to say that when a name came to mind. "You're the son of Zacharias Smith and Marietta Edgecomb, aren't you?"

The arrogant boy stood up proudly. "Yes, I am."

"Then your mother was a traitor who tattled on the school to the Voldemort-aiding ministry, and your father was the first one out the door when Voldemort attacked. Both my parents died in that fight protecting against Voldemort. Maybe they were freaks, but I'd rather be able to say I was the son of good, honorable freaks, than to admit that I was the son of a pair of cowards." The fourth-year turned and walked away, leaving the boy behind him.


	16. Fancy

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _fancy_._  
_

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K+

**Characters:** Neville/Hannah

**Word Count:** 474

* * *

"So, uh... what did you want to talk to me about?" Neville asked, looking around the rarely used hallway Hannah had brought him to when she led him away from his friends.

Hannah scuffed the ground with her shoe and was quiet for a bit. "I have to tell you that I fancy you."

Neville tried not to look surprised at that, nor disappointed at her word choice. "You _have_ to?"

Hannah nodded. "Susan said if I didn't get over here and do it myself, she was going to come tell you, and I wanted to be the one to say it, so I have to do it now." She looked down at the floor and mumbled, "What happened to Hufflepuff loyalty?"

"So, uh, you do fancy me?" Neville asked hopefully

Hannah nodded, still not looking up. "I wasn't going to tell you yet, but Susan seemed to think it was a great time."

"Why though, I mean, it's not just the snake"-

Hannah was looking at him now, shaking her head side to side. "I fancied you for a while, before that even. You were nice and not arrogant, and this past year, you protected everyone and showed that you really care about people. I like your confidence too," she admitted as her gaze dropped back down to the floor.

Neville contemplated what she told him for a minute. He'd hadn't really thought about dating girls before. Early on, he was too shy to believe he could pull it off, and afterward, he was more focused on the war than his love life. Now that the option was in front of him, though, he could see that Hannah definitely a good candidate. She was nice, pretty, and the times they had spoken together, they seemed like they would get along well. Perhaps this was a good first step for healing after the war. He stepped forward and tentatively took her hand, causing her to look up at his face. "Hannah, would you like to go out with me?"

Hannah's eyes got wide and her lips moved, although no sound came from them. She took a deep breath, and this time a faint "yes" came out.

Neville grinned widely, and noted her nervously licking her lips. Studying her eyes to see if his guess was right, he realized that while she had the courage to admit that, she didn't have to courage to initiate the next step, even though she wanted to. Slowly, so as to give her a chance to change her mind if she so chose, he tilted his head down to hers, stopping just before their lips touched. Hannah obviously hadn't changed her mind as she immediately closed the distance between them, pressing her lips against his with a soft sense of urgency.

No one saw them again for several hours.


	17. Defeating the Dark Lord

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _genre: parody_ and _genre: humor_._  
_

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K+

**Characters:** Harry, Hermione, Ron, Voldemort

**Word Count:** 606

* * *

The brave, amazing and oh-so-wonderful Harry Potter stepped out from between the trees to face the evil, cowardly, pathetic Dark Lord.

"Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Come to die at my feet?" The man sneered.

"No, Harry! Don't do it. Don't let him kill you!" Hermione shrieked.

"Forget about him, Hermione, and come run off with me, and marry me, so we can have little bratty children!"

"Ron_ald_ Weasley, you are an in-_sesa_-tive prat!" Hermione yelled as she hit him in the shoulder and stomped away from the older boy.

The Dark Lord tried not to snicker at their antics. "Once more, Harry Potter, have you come to die?"

Harry stood firm. "I'm not scared of you, you big bully! You're ugly and you're smelly, and you don't have a face! Just you try and kill me!"

The bad Dark Lord waved his wand fancily over his head. "Abra Kadabra!" He pointed the wand at Harry, who missed the cue for a moment and stood there looking confused before realizing what was supposed to happen and randomly falling over. The Dark Lord leered. "Ha ha, I have won the war! Harry Potter is dead!"

"You're a big meanie!" Hermione yelled at him.

"Too bad, little girl! Now you will have to bow to me, and I shall make everyone miserable!" Voldemort cackled.

"Not so fast, Vuglymort! I didn't die!" Harry jumped up off the ground, waving his arms in the air to make sure that he was seen.

"Nooooo! How can this be?"

"Your spells cannot harm me! Now, I will defeat you, with the power of... How do I defeat you again?"

"The power of love," Voldemort patiently explained.

"Oh yeah! I will defeat you with the power of love!" Harry raised his own wand, paused and then lowered it. "How do I do that?" Hermione ran over and tugged on on his robes to get him to lean over so she could whisper in his ear. "Do I have to?" Harry whined at her suggestion. She nodded furiously. Harry sighed and walked over to Voldemort. Tugging on the Dark Lord's robes to get him to lean over, Harry waited patiently until Voldemort obeyed and then planted a kiss square on his lips.

Voldemort stared at his opponent blankly. Harry glared. "Are you dead yet? I don't want to have to do that again."

Voldemort continued to stare at the three young members of the Golden Trio. "Are you telling me that you think I killed Voldemort by _kissing_ him?"

Albus 'Harry' Potter shrugged while Lily 'Hermione' Potter burst out into giggles, but James 'Ron' Potter just smirked. "Don't worry, Dad. We won't tell Mum."

Harry 'Voldemort' Potter frowned at his children. "I didn't defeat Voldemort by kissing him."

"You defeated him by love, Daddy. In the bedtime stories, the dark spells are always broken by love when the hero kisses the princess, so you must have kissed him," Lily explained as the children headed up toward the house.

"Couldn't I have kissed your mother instead to kill him? She could have been a princess." Harry argued.

Lily shook her head. "Nope, she didn't have any bad spells on her. It had've been him."

Harry was beginning to regret the fact that he didn't tell them he won by having a super powerful wand that he hid. It certainly would have helped this situation. "I didn't kiss Voldemort!" He yelled insistently after his children, just as Ginny had happened come to the door. She gave him a weird look and shut the door behind the youngsters. Harry flopped backwards on the grass and groaned.


	18. Alarming Accusations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

******Note:** This was written for _Fire the Canon_'s "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt _accusing_._  
_

**Warnings:** n/a

**Rating:** K+

**Characters:** Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Neville, Luna

**Word Count:** 388

* * *

"So, Harry... kissed any Dark Lords lately?" Ron casually asked at the random dinner out the friends had decided to grab to catch up with one another.

Harry choked on his food and glared at his wife.

"Don't give me that look," she warned as she patted his back to make sure his airway was clear.

"Yeah, GinGin didn't say anything. I didn't even know that she know, though I'm surprised she didn't Bat-Bogey your arse for that. James, though, thought it was a good story for his uncle to know."

Harry groaned as he let his head hit the table. Neville just looked confused, and Ron was about to explain the whole story when Luna interrupted. "Oh, is that why you broke up with Ginny after Professor Dumbledore's funeral? I didn't know you fancied Voldemort. It's rather a shame he wasn't capable of love to return your feelings with all the time he spent focused on you. At least you have someone who cares about you now."

Harry's head shot up. "Shh! Luna, don't make accusations like that! You never know when there's a reporter trying to scoop a story on me. Could you imagine if that hit the paper?" He scolded as their four tablemates laughed.

Luna looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, I really must let Daddy know so he can print it before someone else finds out. Please excuse me." She rose from the table and was out the door before anyone could do anything than stare and laugh.

"Some supportive friends you are," Harry snarled at them. "If I'm going down , you're going down with me. If I was snogging Voldemort, then you must have been snogging his lieutenants. Bellatrix Lestrange," he pointed at Hermione. "Lucius Malfoy," he pointed at Ron. "Severus Snape," he pointed at Neville and ran out the door after Luna, hoping to catch her before she left Diagon Alley.

The three indicated looked between each other while Ginny continued her snickering. "He's not actually going to do it, is he?" Neville asked nervously.

"I hope not. Oh, stop your crackling," Hermione snapped at Ginny. "Just because he didn't mention it, doesn't mean that I won't dish about your secret love affair with Umbridge if this hits the news." Ginny's horrified face sent the other three back into laughter.


End file.
